


Little Things

by TheTurtleFromHell



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family Shenanigans, Fluff and Humor, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 09:22:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25348414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTurtleFromHell/pseuds/TheTurtleFromHell
Summary: A story that follows Belnades and Belmont through their first pregnancy.
Relationships: Trevor Belmont/Sypha Belnades
Comments: 14
Kudos: 30





	Little Things

Being pregnant was far from a joyous thing.

Sure, the concept of growing an entire being inside of you was incredible on its surface, but when it came down to it being pregnant sucked. Sypha realized this shortly after he morning sickness began (which was a misleading name given that it lasted all day).

She hung her head over the bucket beside her bed, staying as still as possible for fear than any movement would upset her stomach. When the waves of nausea calmed down enough, she laid back down and sighed, “Good Lord, why haven’t we invented spells to make people instead of going through all of this agony?”

“I believe the alchemists did come up with a method.” Trevor said as he walked through the door with a tray of tea and crackers, “They’re called ‘homunculus’.”

“Shut the fuck up.” she groaned, but there was no bite behind the words.

About a year after the death of Dracula, they had decided to take on the task of restoring the Belmont mansion. After time spent catching up, Alucard decided it was his turn to travel the world. Shortly after Sypha fell pregnant, thus leading to her current state.

Trevor’s heart ached for her as he sat by her side, setting the tray down, “It’s ginger tea, I read it's good for nausea.”

“Yeah, it is.” she agreed meekly as she sat up, picking up the cup and taking tiny sips, “Thank you, by the way.”

“It’s the least I can do for the two loves of my life.” he says as he kisses her cheek and lays a hand on her belly, “If there’s something I know, it’s that fluids are important and it’s better to throw up something rather than nothing… I’ve thrown up a lot in my life.”

“How charming.” she chuckles as she rolls her eyes. Suddenly, she feels the back of her throat burn and her stomach contents working their way back up,“BUCKET, _NOW!_ ”

Trevor leaps across the bed, grabbing the bucket and shoving it under her mouth in time to catch the vomit.

When she was done, he pulled a kerchief from his pocket and wiped her mouth, “Still beautiful.” he tells her as he puts the bucket and soiled cloth aside. Half of her wants to yell at him for saying something so sappy during her suffering, while the other half wants to cry about how touching it is. She ends up doing the latter.

Damn hormones.

* * *

Trevor awoke in the middle of the night to the sound of something hitting the floor downstairs. His heart leapt into his throat as he satup, startled by the sound. ‘Intruder’ he thinks, before noticing the empty spot next to him, ‘Sypha.’

He tossed the covers off of himself, rubbing his eyes as he made his way to the kitchen. Sypha was squatting with a leg on either side, struggling to bend past her swollen belly and pick up the fallen pot.

“Need help?” he offers as he walks over.

Sypha blinks in surprise, “Shit, I didn’t mean to-”

“I was already up.” he lied as he bent down to pick up the pot, noticing something as he did, “Are you wearing my slippers?”

“My feet got too big for mine.” she said, obviously upset about it. Trevor couldn’t imagine the turmoil going on inside of her as her body shifted and changed. The closest thing he could come up with that it was like puberty, but a thousand times worse and on fire.

He put the pot down and the counter and hugged her tightly. She flinched, clearly surprised by the sudden embrace, “Trevor?”

“You seemed like you needed it.” he said as he gave her one last squeeze, before stepping back. When Sypha smiled and shook her head exasperatedly, he knew he had been victorious in his task.

“So what are you making?” he asked, motioning to the food on the counter.

“I wanted some cake.” she said, “With orange zest.”

“Orange zest.” he echoed, “I can make it for you-”

“No.” she snapped, grabbing the flour and pouring some into a mixing bowl. She then winced, realizing how harshly she had spoken, “I’m sorry.”

Trevor shrugged as if to say ‘I’ve had worse said to me’.

She grabbed a grater and an orange, “Can you get started on the zest, if you still want to help?” she offered.

“Yes ma’am.” he replied cheerily as he grabbed them and got to work. Sypha began mixing the batter as she began thinking to herself. Logically, she knew that mood swings were normal, and she knew that Trevor knew that too. Still, it felt unfair that he bore the brunt of her shortened temper, and so she tried to balance it out with pleasant conversation.

“You know,” she begins, “I was reading a book the other night about Greek theories on pregnancy.” 

“Mhm?”

“And Aristotle thought that menstrual blood was nourishment for the tiny man within man’s sperm, unlike other Greeks who thought it went to the breasts to make milk.”

Trevor froze mid grating. Sypha could practically see the wheels in his head turning through his confused eyes.

He looked up at her, completely baffled by what he just heard, “What?”

“Yup.”

“How would that even...?”

“I don’t know.”

“That ridiculous,” he scoffs, “You can’t get milk from blood. You don’t cut open a dairy cow and it’s suddenly all milk, it’s two different things.”

“I know.” she chuckles, “I just thought it was interesting how wrong they were.”

“Incredibly wrong.” he laughs, “But seriously though, imagine if you cut open a cow and it was all milk. Would you drink it?”

“Hell no!” she looked at him incredulously, “It was probably cursed!”

“Okay but what if it wasn’t cursed, would you?” he pressed.

“Trevor Christopher Belmont, I swear you’ve got a few screws loose.” she sighed, shaking her head.

He smirked, “You never answered my question.”

And thus, they spent the wee hours of the morning eating cake and debating the circumstances of when you could drink the milk-blood of the hypothetical freak of a cow.

* * *

As the pregnancy went on, Sypha became less of a baker and more of a couch potato, which was understandable given the fact she had gained around thirty pounds on her stomach throughout the entire ordeal. So these days, the couple spent more of their time together on couches and beds, reading books and making toys and clothes for their child… and sometimes, Sypha would do something weird out of boredom.

“Trevor, look!” she called. Trevor looked up from his little sewing project to where Sypha sat across from him on the other couch, ink pen in hand and a crudely drawn face on her large stomach.

“Well will you look at that!” he laughed, “I think the baby has your eyes.” he said as he got up and took the pen from her hand, drawing a nose right above her belly button, “And now it’s got my nose. And maybe they’ll have freckles too-”

“Stop, that tickles!” she giggled, smacking his hand away. Trevor chuckled and put the pen down, seating himself and continuing with his task.

“Is it almost done?” she asks as she leans her head on his shoulder. 

“Almost.” he replies, “Have I told you the story of my birth?”

“A few times,” she says, cuddling and getting comfy against him, “But tell it again, I like that story.”

“Alright, so it was a rainy evening,” he began, “My mother went into labor after dinner, which was concerning because my due date was well over a month away. They thought I was going to end up stillborn, and even when I was born breathing everyone was telling her not to get too hopeful because I was so weak and tiny. Just then a demon happened to attack the village down the road, and my mother said that when I heard its roar I began swinging my fists as if I was ready for a fight. She said that in that moment, she knew I’d be okay.”

When he finished, Sypha had the biggest smile on her face, “Sounds just like you.”

“Yeah, Mom always reminded me I was a handful from birth.” he recalled fondly, pressing a kiss to her temple, “What about your birth story?”

“Mine?” she hums in thought, “Grandfather said I was two weeks late, and Mother always joked that I was taking my time to make my entrance. At midnight, she got a bad craving for figs, but instead of waking Mami or Grandfather up, she went down the road herself to the orchard. On the way back she felt me coming, said she only had to push a few times and I came out onto the dirt road. She came back to the camp with a basket of figs in one hand and me in the other.”

“We’ve got some pretty interesting beginnings it seems.” he laughs as he goes back to his sewing, “Promise me you won’t give birth to our kid while getting figs.”

“I’ll try.” she smiles coyly.

* * *

Fortunately their child came into the world in the usual way.

After nearly ten hours of labor Sypha began to give birth just as the sun was peeking over the horizon as if to view the moment for itself. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew she was a sight for sore eyes, covered in sweat with bodily fluids between her legs and making ugly faces as she grit her teeth and pushed.

Trevor looked like he was going to faint the whole time, but managed to keep his bearings enough to hold her close with a hand on her shoulder and the other one on the verge of being broken in her grip.

“One more push should do it!” Elder Alina said gleefully. Sypha didn’t remember much after that, just the feeling of something slipping out of her, and the strangest high she had experienced. Then suddenly there was a baby placed on her stomach. It was warm, squishy and covered in a mess of vernix and fluids. It coughed, then wailed at the top of it’s tiny lungs.

There was no immediate feeling of connection, but there was the sense that she couldn’t wait to get to know her little one and love them for who they were, to see it grow and become its own person.

“Sypha,” Trevor sniffled as tears of joy ran down his cheeks, “We’re parents.”

“Yeah…” she says, holding the babe to her breast and watching in fascination as it latches on.

“He’s so little,” he says, “Can I touch him?”

“Of course,” she laughs softly, watching as Trevor gently runs his fingers over his son’s skin.

“Sypha,” Alina says, breaking them from their trance, “We need a few more pushes, alright?”

“Sure.” she sighs, ready for the ordeal to be done with, “Trevor, wanna get our son cleaned off while I finish up?”

“Um, okay.” Trevor nodded nervously, taking his child into his arms and trying not to shake with emotion as he brought him over to the basin. 

He managed to recall how to do it despite the overwhelming storm of emotions inside his head, gently washing his son clean in the tepid water. The baby squirmed and made faces at the sensation of being washed, occasionally opening his eyes to peer around at the world he had entered.

“It’s nice to meet you.” he told the baby as he grabbed a towel and laid him down in it, drying him off with the most gentle hands he thinks he’s ever used, “I’m Trevor, but obviously you can just call me Dad, and over there is your amazing and wonderful Mom, Sypha. You two have obviously been well acquainted over the last nine months.”

The baby simply hiccuped and looked up curiously at his father. Trevor smiled, hoping he was making a good first impression, “By the way, I made you this.” he said, grabbing the baby gown he had spent the last few weeks working on. Proudly displayed on both the breast and the back of the gown was the Belmont crest with the Speaker symbol displayed on both sides of it, an insignia marking the Belnades and Belmont heritage.

As soon as the baby was dressed and swaddled, he returned to Sypha’s side. With the afterbirth dealt with, the midwives had laid her down in a bed of fresh sheets and a heavy blanket on top of her.

“Hello dears.” she smiles tiredly as Trevor lays by her side, laying their son between them. She offers the baby her finger to hold, watching as he takes it and suckles on the tip, “This is weird, isn’t it? Us settling down and having children?”

“Well, ‘settling down’ is definitely not on the agenda.” he chuckles, “But yes, this is quite the new adventure we’re navigating.”

She hums in agreement. Before long the midwives take their leave for the time being and it’s only the three of them, and it feels like the world outside of their cozy little room doesn’t exist. Rather, this little thing laying between them has become their entire world.

* * *

“I’m worried about them.” Trevor tells the Elder the next morning, as he cradles his great grandson for the first time.

The old man looks up in surprise, “Did something happen?” he asks.

Trevor shook his head, “No, I mean, not yet.” he says, glancing at Sypha as she sleeps off the exhaustion of childbirth, “I know kids can stop breathing in their sleep, and there’s all these complications that can happen with the mom. I was wondering, how do you do it?”

“Do what?” the Elder said with a knowing smile.

“Being a father, when there’s so much that can go wrong…” he sighs, “When it feels like I’m already doing everything wrong.”

The Elder hums in thought, “Let’s go for a walk, shall we?” he offers, “Sunlight is good for babies anyways.”

Trevor glanced worryingly between him and his sleeping love, before nodding, “Fine.”

He took his son from the Elder’s arms as they made their way to the courtyard, nearly restored to its former glory. It was almost like Trevor remembered, a section dedicated to fruit trees and vegetables, another dedicated to fragrant herbs and edible flowers, yet another for decorative flowers and a willow tree in the center of it all. The one that had stood before the purge was rumored to be planted by Leon himself, and Trevor couldn’t help but wonder how many centuries the one he planted would live.

“How has fatherhood been treating you?” the Elder asked, breaking him from his thoughts.

“It’s… nerve wracking.” he admits as he rocks his son, sitting on the edge of a garden wall, “I’ve heard all these stories about babies dying in their sleep, or women dying weeks after giving birth from silent illnesses. No matter how hard I try, I’m just haunted by the thought of losing them.

The Elder nods understandingly as he sits beside him, “You know, I was the same way when Ilia was forn.” he laughs as he recalls, “I used to place my finger under her nose and count her breaths all night long.”

“Good to know I’m not the only one who does that.” Trevor chuckles, before his smile runs away from his face, “But… It feels like I’m doing everything wrong. I know being sleep deprived isn’t doing anyone any favors, but everytime I shut my eyes I feel horrible for not watching over my son and child. God, it’s only been a single day and I’m already a mess…” he sighs as he looks down at his kid, “I don’t want to be a mess of a father…”

“Everyone is a mess at first Trevor,” the Elder assures as he places a hand on his shoulder, “Remember when Sypha first found out she was with child?”

Trevor chuckles, “Vividly. She was a nervous wreck and spent a week straight in the castle reading every pregnancy book she could find. The more she read, the more convinced she became she was doing everything wrong.”

“You had to pick her up and carry her out of the castle.” the old man laughed, “My, that was quite the sight. I think she nearly set you on fire.”

“She was about to.” he laughs. The baby fusses a bit, and Trevor shifts him so that he’s patting the infant’s back, and calms immediately as he does so.

“See?” the Elder said.

Trevor blinked, “See what?”

“You’ve already gotten to know him so well.” he says as he motions to the baby, “The language of babies is the most universal language of all, and you’re learning it just fine.”

Trevor looked at his son as if he was oblivious to what he had just done, “Oh…” he says.

“You cannot worry about what is out of your control Trevor.” he explains, “Focus on what you know instead.”

“What I know?” he echoes in confusion.

“Right. You know that Elder Alina says Sypha’s recovery is going perfectly, you know your baby is in good health, and you know how to care for him and you’re only going to get better at doing so.” he explains, “It won’t completely stop your nerves, but it will help.”

“Focus on what I know.” he repeats, smiling as he says the words, “Thank you Elder.”

Before the Speaker has a chance to answer, the baby starts up again and begins to cry.

“Welp, I know that cry means he’s hungry.” the Belmont chuckles, “Let’s get back inside, shall we son?”

His baby looks at him, and Trevor can’t help but think he’s the most beautiful baby boy in the world.

* * *

“Trevor Belmont, you’ve somehow managed to produce the ugliest baby in the world.” Alucard said as he peered down into the crib, with the name ‘Gabriel’ carved into the headboard.

“Excuse me, my son is the mirror image of his handsome dad.” Trevor proudly proclaims as he lifts the baby into his arms. The one month old chews on his fist and looks at the dhampir curiously.

“He looks like a potato made of flesh, which I suppose is accurate to your statement about him looking like you.” he smiles coyly.

Trevor narrowed his eyes and stuck out his lip in a pout, “You’re being a real asshat right now.” he looks down at his son, “Can you say ‘asshat’? Go on, tell your godfather what he is.”

Gabe simply scrunches his face and farts.

“And that’s what he thinks of that.” Trevor laughs proudly.

“Charming.” Alucard rolls his eyes.

“Trevor!” Sypha called as she stepped inside the house, pulling down her hood and shaking her hair loose, “I’m back from- Oh, Alucard! You’re here earlier than expected!”

“I managed to get find a transmission mirror in working order.” he explained as they embraced, “It’s so good to see you again.”

“You as well.” she beamed.

“Yeah, well I don’t think so.” Trevor scoffed, “He’s been insulting our baby’s looks the second he walked in the door.”

“Tattletale.” Alucard stuck his tongue out. Trevor stuck his out tongue back at him.

Sypha cocked a brow, putting her hands on her hips, “I went through nine months of Hell crafting the world’s most precious baby, and you come in here and call him ugly?” she says in mock-offense, like a queen who had just been insulted by a peasant.

“Forgive me Sypha, I mean nothing personal by it. I just find all babies to be ugly wailing gremlins.” he says with equally dramatic flair, “Is there anything I can do to earn your forgiveness?”

She hums in thought, “Perhaps if you make dinner and dessert, I won’t boot your sorry butt onto the streets.”

“Deal.” he says as he offers his hand. Sypha takes it and shakes on it.

Dinner was spent mostly discussing Sypha’s condition over the course of pregnancy and the postpartum symptoms, sharing funny little anecdotes like Sypha’s late night baking and Trevor’s nervous dad antics.

“I’m serious! The first time the baby spit up he woke me out of a dead sleep to ask me if it was a normal amount!” Sypha giggles (beit it a little bit subdued due to the fact she holds her sleeping infant in her arms).

“Hey, in my defense it looked like a lot to come out of a tiny baby.” Trevor pouted as he ate a bite of mixed vegetables, “Seriously, babies must have some sort of magic replicator going on in their bowels for the amount of crap and puke they create.”

“Good to know I could count on you two for delightful dinner topics.” he said sarcastically but nonetheless kept eating, clearly unbothered by the tales of bodily fluids.

As the new parents enjoyed their dinner with their best friend, and as their child slept in his mother’s arms, they locked eyes and exchanged a smile that said what they were both thinking, a simply truth they had come to know.

In life, it truly is the little things that count.


End file.
